


you are part of everything

by cinnamonlove



Category: Instant Karma - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Not Beta Read, based on a theory i had while reading that didnt happen lol, title is from dear prudence!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27380953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonlove/pseuds/cinnamonlove
Summary: Quint Erickson has a secret.
Relationships: Prudence Daniels/Quint Erickson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	you are part of everything

**Author's Note:**

> this is just something small i wrote after finishing the book today! i'm gonna be honest, i did this really quickly bc i wanted to have the first fic in the instant karma tag. hopefully nobody else posted anything before me or this is embarrassing LOL

Quint Erickson has a secret. 

It was something he discovered in his childhood, and something he has never told anyone before. He’s not sure he ever will, actually. Because of course, not too many people in a typical Southern California beach town will believe a boy that claims he can read minds. 

Honestly, Quint wouldn’t have believed it himself if Ezra, or Morgan, and any of his other friends told him that they had a secret superpower. So Quint has kept this secret close to chest ever since he realized that knowing exactly what other people are thinking all the time wasn’t the fun adventure he thought it would be. Ever since he probed the minds of his mother and father one night after a nasty fight between them, and knew before they did that their time as a family wouldn’t last forever. 

Of course, Quint’s power was extremely helpful other times. After subtle hints from Maya Livingstone that she wasn’t interested when he tried to flirt with her, he prodded her thoughts just a bit to learn that she wasn’t interested in _boys_ in general. That certainly saved him a lot of unnecessary awkward interactions in the future. 

Reading minds is a lot different than people would think; it’s definitely not the word-for-word stream of consciousness telepathy depicted in movies and stuff. When Quint prods at the thoughts of another person, he usually only catches a few words unless he concentrates really hard. Another factor is how close Quint is to the target person—his mom and Ezra are extremely easy to read, but if Quint tried to use his power on a total stranger he met in the street, he probably wouldn’t be able to do it. 

There’s only one person that Quint has never been able to read, even after sitting next to her for a grand total of nine months. 

Freaking Prudence Daniels.

Even after multiple attempts for the first few months they were lab partners, Quint has never been able to get a word, a syllable, not even a vague feeling from Prudence Daniels. 

“What’s your problem?!” Quint finally blurts out, after forty minutes of stewing in anger under Prudence’s cold judgement. 

“Oh, _I’m_ the one with a problem?” Prudence twists in her seat to face him, scowl deepening in the vibrant, red set of her lips. “Excuse me, I didn’t know that just because _I_ come to class on time and _I_ do all of the work for both of us that I’m the one who needs to do a little self-reflecting.” She punctuates each word with a quick slap of her palm on the desk. “Thanks for letting me know! I’ll make sure to be lazy and incompetent like you from now on, since you’re such a model for exemplary student behavior.”

Now, Quint liked to think that he was a pretty nice guy. He smiles often, he always gives others the benefit of the doubt, and he’s got a great sense of humor! With the whole selflessly volunteering at a sealife rescue center on top of that, Quint considers himself to be a generally easygoing and friendly person. 

Except Prudence Daniels makes his blood boil and his hands shake with rage more than any person on the entire planet ever could. Quint isn’t so sure he can stay easy-breezy with how she is always so ready to criticize Quint without getting to know him at all. 

Quint resists the urge to snap his pencil in half. Instead he takes a deep sigh, and counts to ten in his head. Prudence has already gone back to ignoring his existence, furiously scribbling on the handout Mr. Chavez has given them at the start of class. The worst part is that she’s probably doing a better job on writing their assignment than he is; Quint knows he’s unmatched for capturing the perfect angle for a photo or knowing the exact way to pacify an agitated sea lion baby, but data analysis and discussion was not his strong suit. 

Quint sneaks a quick glance back at Prudence’s face. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, and her infuriatingly red lips are still pursued in indignation. She’s probably contemplating the best way to strangle him with the three page handout in front of her. Or just listing all of Quint’s flaws in her head like a mantra. 

He subtly shifts, trying to turn in Prudence’s direction without being noticed. She’d just ignore anyway, she’s practically a master at that by now. He fixes his gaze on her profile, tightens his jaw, concentrates hard. Usually, just looking at someone and clearing his mind is enough to let him into their mind.

A moment passes. 

Then another. 

And another. Nothing. 

Quint sighs again.

It’s not all that inconvenient for him, really. He tries not to invade other people’s minds whenever he can, because he knows that it’s a super creepy thing to abuse. And he would never, never, _never_ , in a million years, ever want to look into Prudence’s mind and be traumatized by whatever horrors lie in store for him in there. And it’s not like Prudence has ever tried to hide her opinions on him in any way. Oh no, she certainly makes every thought that ever crosses into her mind known to everyone in the vicinity when she decides to criticize Quint. 

He just wonders _why_ Prudence is the only one who seems to be immune to his powers. Why her? Are the two of them really just that incompatible with each other? 

Whatever. It’s not like it matters anyways. Quint is certain that he will never be in a situation in which he would want to know what Prudence Daniels is thinking. 

_

Quint is desperate to know what Prudence Daniels is thinking. 

He squirms in the plush armchair of the theater, and tries to subtly wipe his hands on the outside of his jeans. John Williams’s epic orchestra blasts a suspenseful and dramatic melody, and Quint can feel his heartbeat pick up to the pace of the music. 

Does Prudence think this is a date? _Is_ this a date? 

Quint isn’t sure himself. The past few weeks with her have been a real rollercoaster of emotions for Quint—from unbridled rage and despair when learning that he’d have to work with her, to confusion and growing affection after spending more time with her and wondering if maybe Prudence wasn’t the condescending, judgemental, evil she-demon he had made her out to be. And this past week—he’s starting to realize he might actually like Prudence. _Like_ like her. She’s ambitious, she’s intelligent, and her dry sarcasm is actually really entertaining at times. He still can’t believe that after years and years of failed attempts at fundraisers, Prudence was able to swoop in and organize a successful beach cleanup with him that raised awareness for the center all over town. As it turns out, Prudence and Quint make a pretty good team. Who would have thought? 

If Quint is honest with himself, he knows that the gnawing feeling in his gut everytime Prudence gives him a wry smile, it’s not just admiration— it’s adoration.

A loud bang reverberates through the theater and Prudence buries her face in Quint’s shoulder. Quint immediately goes rigid. He really hopes he isn’t sweating through his shirt right now. He tries not to focus on the warmth spreading through his arm at Prudence’s touch, or the way he can feel her nose pressed close to the fabric of his shirt, so close to his skin. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, and curses the fact that he had to go and fall for the only person in the world he couldn’t be sure liked him back. 

_

Sitting with damp, stringy hair, a blanket that smells like dead fish tied around her waist, and shadows from the dim lighting hiding the brightness of her eyes, Quint thinks that Prudence Daniels is perhaps the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. 

The rain pounding against the ceiling and walls of the center in the back of his mind is lulling Quint into a sense of calm and security. This is a great contrast to the spark of electricity running through his veins everytime Prudence’s hand brushes against his. It’s practically inevitable with their proximity right now. A shiver runs down Quint’s spine, but for some reason he knows it’s not from the cold. He searches Prudence’s face for some clue, some sign, any indication that she’s feeling the same tension he is, but with the nearest source of light being a tiny flashlight, he can’t read her properly. It would be a dumb idea to try and take a risk right now. 

He hasn’t attempted to read Prudence’s mind for weeks now, but something compels him to try in this moment. 

“You can do whatever you want to do,” she murmurs, the sound almost washed out from the rain pouring outside. 

His eyes bore into Prudence with an intensity he’s never let himself feel before. His mind clears, and all he focuses on is her, her, _her_.

Nothing happens, but he isn’t particularly disappointed. 

He takes a chance instead, and leans in. 

_

“I’m sorry you two had to learn about Prudence’s true intentions this way,” Shauna’s voice distantly floats through Quint’s mind, soothing and full of pity. 

Shauna is shoving receipts and bank statements and progress charts in Quint and his mother’s faces, but he barely registers her statistical explanations over the rush of blood pounding in his ears. He wouldn’t be able to interpret them anyway. But he can interpret this sinking, world-tilting weight that’s suddenly overtaken his gut. 

It’s betrayal. 

Quint’s thoughts are muddled and disjointed right now, but one truth is clear, striking, and hardens something in Quint’s heart. 

He has absolutely no interest in knowing Prudence Daniels is thinking. 

_

All sound drowns out and Quint’s vision tunnels to Prudence when he spots her in the crowd of the gala. Around him, guests mingle and clink their champagne glasses, and his mother gleefully details the conversation she had with a potential donor beside him, but Quint couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to any of it. 

What does she think she’s doing here? Why now, of all times, has Prudence Daniels decided to come ruin Quint’s life some more? 

Trish Roxby’s rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” blares through the speakers as Quint whirls around and comes face to face with Prudence. He swallows thickly as he takes in her dress, her hair, her bright red lipstick. He faintly hears himself speaking in the back of his mind, but it’s barely audible over the hundreds of questions racing through him. He steels himself in anger once more, and hopes his expression betrays no emotion. 

“Quint, I need to talk to you.” He didn’t miss the sound of her voice. He didn’t. 

“Oh? Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come here to apologize?” Quint wants to shake Prudence by the shoulders and demand to know why she’s here, did she ever really care about him? But he remains impassive. 

Until Prudence steps forward and begins to unravel a decade-old deception. And the walls surrounding Quint’s heart shatter into a million pieces. He doubts they ever stood a chance in the first place. 

_

The dust has finally settled on this whole affair, and Quint wants nothing more than to take Prudence in his arms and beg for forgiveness. But she’s nowhere to be found. 

Why would she run off? They had caught the bad guy! Now was the time to celebrate, to reconcile, to maybe continue where they had left off the night of the storm. At least that’s what Quint was hoping this gala would come to. Once Prudence was back and Quint realized that she had never intended to hurt him or his mother, he had thought of nothing but the time he had wasted being angry at her. He was such an idiot for not trusting her in the first place. 

Except that Prudence had left. Maybe she didn’t want to go back to what they had before, considering Quint was so quick to dismiss her. She’d be completely in the right. But something is tugging at Quint’s innermost thoughts, an inkling, an instinctual notion that no, Prudence would not leave just like that. 

Perhaps it was Quint’s turn to be brave for the both of them.

With knees wobbling precariously as he ascended the steps to the stage, Quint leans in to whisper to Trish Roxby just as she picks the next slip of paper from her collection. 

“Miss Roxby?” He can hear the tremor in his voice, but he tries his best to will it away. 

“Yes, dear? What can I do for you?” Her smile is encouraging, and friendly. It boosts the small bit of confidence slowly growing in Quint’s chest, and he takes a deep breath. 

“I’d like to sing the next song—you see, there’s this girl,” Quint feels heat rise to his cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known, and I haven’t exactly told her that yet.” His eyes flicker back up to Trish, who’s beaming at him. He doesn’t need to prod at her thoughts to know that she’s rooting for him. “I was hoping you would help me tell her.”

She holds out a microphone, and Quint takes it. 

The minute or so is a blur as Trish directs him to the small ‘x’ taped in the center of the stage and hastily relays the instructions for picking the song and which screen to read the lyrics from. Quint nods along but his feet feel heavy as he drags them each step toward centerstage and his tongue grows thicker in his mouth. 

“Next up, one of the rescue center’s most beloved and longtime volunteers. Please welcome to the stage… Quint Erickson!”

Oh God. This is a terrible idea. Why did he agree to do this? 

Quint turns his head to face the crowd of people, all their faces blurring from the stage lights. He squints against the brightness and grips the microphone clutched close to his chest tighter. His hands are sweating profusely but he doesn’t dare take them off of the microphone to wipe them. 

What had Prudence told him when she had gone up for karaoke? He remembers that she had a trick to get through public speaking and events like these. His mind blanks as he flits through his memories for that moment. 

Oh, yeah.

_It’s only four minutes of your life_ , Quint, he tells himself. _You can get through this_. 

The music begins.

Quint does something brave.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
